


Thaw in flames

by HitTheWall



Series: Boy in a box, hurt behind the mask [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, mcyt
Genre: Amnesia, Blood, Crying, First Meeting, Gen, Gremlin Child, Hurt Dream, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, No beta oof im sorry for my English, SBI family!!!, Skeppy and Sapnap are too chaotic to be left together, Sorry don't know much bout Sap so can be OOC by a lot, Tommy will hurt himself if left alone, a start of a beautiful friendship, confused dream, he has green flames now!, post-possession dream, pyromaniac Sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:26:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27999711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HitTheWall/pseuds/HitTheWall
Summary: !!! sequel for Winter clutchesDream wakes up from terrible experience of fighting with a demon for his body. Although he does not remember that. Or Toby. Or his own name. Or almost anything.Hurt, confused and alone he finds out, that his memories wasn't the only thing, taken away from him...
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Series: Boy in a box, hurt behind the mask [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2044849
Comments: 12
Kudos: 215





	1. The underside of ice

**Author's Note:**

> (if Sap is ooc, sorry! I'll do my best to make it better. Also, I take constructive criticism to improve my writing, so leave a comment if you have something to say!)
> 
> Now the fic comes with a short instrumental Spotify playlist! Please, enjoy
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6qn8tcYnjU5ooAoKIsFtLH?si=YneafPctQg-J03IorLvP-g

It's been days, maybe weeks. He wouldn't be surprised if it was even months or years. In scalding delirium, he tossed and turned while he could still move. Then he just lay there, burning, wordlessly begging for the heat and pain and noise to stop. But to no avail. The flames were eating at his core, his soul hissing and sizzling as it tried to escape, twisting and wailing.

Something else was burning inside of him. Something dark and evil. And now powerless.

Through painful haze the teen felt triumph. He couldn't grasp how or why, but the suffering of this thing brought him so much relief. It was going to be gone. It won't hurt him anymore. Won't hurt...

Won't hurt who?

His bones were coals, his tears turned to steam the moment they left his eyes. 

When would it stop?

He was melting, until, suddenly, he wasn't. Like an old ache, the fires timidly stepped down. Only warm tingling remained where once was a wildfire. 

He could breathe again. He could open his eyes.

So he did. A boy without a name or any memories has forced his eyes open, shaking the soot and ash off his eyelashes. 

The snow was falling heavily, but he was laying on bare ground. The earth was dry, somewhere the green flames still visible.   
But further away all he could see where the snow - the never-ending white silk, and black dead trees. 

It was like a dome was removed at once. The first snowflake touched his hand.

Cold. He could barely feel it. Little cold touches of snow all around his face and fingers. 

He looked at his fingers.

A mess of dirt and blood, broken nails.

But he wasn't burning anymore. This was what's important. Little pain he could manage.

But the fires.

Never again the fires.

He felt himself start trembling. And it wasn't because of the cold.

He felt robbed. Like something important was taken from him. Actually, a lot of important.

Like his memories.

He could vaguely remember some things before the fire. Like anger and frustration, the deep poisonous despair. Then little hope, a desire to protect, fear. Fury. Pain and heat.

It was all so vague, it was driving him insane. What were those memories? An echo of emotions, no more! He needed to start with something more... Specific. Because randomly waking up in a forest wasn't exactly a great starting point.

Something grounding, something real. The teen was trying desperately to stay collected. What, what was there to hold onto...

A name. A name?

Dreamon? Dream?

Was it his? It felt personal. The most personal thing he felt since the thing inside of him turned to ash.

For some reason, he thought that it deserved it.

So Dream it was. His name.

Dream wanted to say it out loud, to taste it, to hear a human voice for once.

But only coughing came out. Raw and dry.

It didn't last long though. Dream kept telling himself that it wasn't that bad. He had worse (probably?), It wasn't the first challenge he faced (surely...). It was time to move from this burnt-out spot.

His legs did co-operate, but not without effort. It took Dream about a minute to stand up. Bearable, alright.

He needed to find something. Someone... A person, important to him.

Who was it? 

It hurt to think. Something wasn't right. Why couldn't he remember?

Absent-mindedly, he kept going through the snow and trees, green flames licking his footprints, never allowing him to get cold. They once scared Dream, now they felt soothing, familiar. They were not devilish red or torturing orange. They were his.

Among white fluff and shining, a lake showed up. It looked so pure among dead-white scenery. Calming smooth blue-grey surface beckoned Dream with the promise of water.

He just realised how thirsty he was. 

Dream dragged his feet towards the ice. The smoothness of it could rival a mirror.

This is when he saw them.

His eyes. 

Two gaping holes of darkness. Dry and slimy, deep and shallow, terrifying holes in his skull.

Green flames rose as Dream screamed in surprise and fear of his own face. Same old face with freckles and a small scar on the upper lip, the one he got when he was playing with... With...

Were his eyes always like this? Weren't they white and green with a tiny dot of a black iris? Why, what was staring back at him from his own reflection..?

He gulped, throat still sore, tasting ashes on his tongue.

Dream sat there, staring at his own face in the ice. Same dirty-blond messy hair, the same fur-lined khaki coloured jacket, too big on him, but warm enough.

Why did it feel so wrong, what was it with him?

He needed evidence. Something from before the... Flames to remind him of who he really was.

Dream started patting his coat in search for anything, just anything in the pockets, hidden or not. 

A lighter, two green marbles, a dead flower, black lace... What else, what else...

It was more of an instinct to check there. The inside pocket, the closest to the heart. There should be something right?

With shaky fingers, Dream fished out a piece of crumpled paper. Yes, yes, finally something!

It was a piece of the photo. Clumsily torn in a hurry, possibly. There was a grinning boy Dirty-blond hair, mischievous green eyes. 

Dream recognised his features. However, no empty sockets present on his younger face. A normal kid. A happy kid.

But who was standing near? Oversized green shirt visible just before the edges cut the picture off. Was this person close to Dream? Were they the one he was searching for?

Dream's head hurt. He saw green flames lick closer to the precious piece.

He quickly shoved it back in his inner pocket. 

While Dream was hiding the thing, something else fell out, crumpled beyond belief, old and now soaked from snow.

The teen carefully lifted the paper, unwrapping it with as quickly as he could without dealing any damage.

It was a crude drawing of a huge smiling face. From wheat-coloured hair and green clothes, Dream could guess that he was the one drawn on the paper. For some reason, he was sure, that this was the present and not something he himself could make and tuck as deeply as he could.

Another piece of the puzzle, yet, still useless.

Was it a sibling? A friend? Who made this for him?

All the questions, from the author of the drawing to his current predicament of being alone in the forest without any memories made Dream's head spin.

He needed to get to people. Maybe someone there would recognise him.

But those eyes... What should he do about them..?

He could try disappearing into the hood of his coat, but it still felt not safe enough. What else could he do to cover his face?

A thought, some might call stupid, hit the teen 

With surprisingly steady fingered, he made two tiny holes in the drawing. Then, he made use of the black lace he found in his pockets earlier. 

Some careful adjusting is all it took to make a... Ugly and suspicious, but a mask none the less. 

It wasn't too long-lasting though. To whoever gave him their drawing, Dream silently apologised. It was a necessity, for a short time until a better option showed itself.

And now, it was time to find civilization.

Dream thought, as his stomach let out the most pathetic sound of hunger. It made him realise how weak he felt, and how thirsty and hungry and tired he was...

A twig snapped behind him. 

Dream moved on reflex, momentarily crashing down onto the uninvited guest.

\- Woah, woah, buddy, chill! - a boy, not older than Dream himself, gasped, as he was brought to the ground, pinned by a bony knee of the taller teen. The stranger looked harmless, but alarmed and even scared now, trapped by a stranger.

Relatively short raven black hair contrasted heavily with the white snow, as did the tan. Brown eyes were following Dream's movements with caution.

"Man, I'm telling you, it's okay, I won't hurt you- But I mean seriously, what the fuck is with that thing on your face..." - Dream tensed, subconsciously worrying that the stranger might've noticed his eyes.

"...buuut it's okay, I kinda like the vibe, you know? Just, let me go, alright? I'm not your enemy, we can figure it out. I can help. - the pinned teen continued.

Dream thought for a second. This was his chance to finally leave this cursed place, to get his head sorted out...

...and possibly get some food. Preferably. The lightheadedness was getting to him.

Dream clumsily got up from the chest of the stranger, vision swimming from exhaustion and the fading adrenaline.

"Bro, are you even alright? What are you doing here, so goddamn deep in the forest?" - the teen exhaled with relief and quickly got to his feet.

Dusting his pants, he stared at Dream, waiting.

Well, what was he supposed to say?

"I... Was running some errands. But got lost. It would be great to leave this stupid place." - he croaked, throat still sore.

"Um, cool. Pun not intended." - despite that, the stranger still chuckled - "I'm Nick. But everyone just calls me Sapnap. Would've been happier to meet you without you know... Kicking me to the ground."

"Dream"

"So, Dream, let's get you out of here. No violence, maybe a little bit of arson, but not towards me." - Nick smiled and gestured for Dream to follow him.

And Dream did so, not without hesitation. He tried moving at safe distance from the active boy. 

A couple of minutes later, he amusingly noted, that despite being a lot shorter than him and chatting non-stop about something stupid and irrelevant, Sapnap was moving a lot faster and with baffling ease. It was pissing Dream off.

So, as any reasonable, hurt and exhausted teen would do, Dream struggled to get ahead of his new acquaintance.

"...so as I was saying to Bad, that he absolutely could not go into the forest searching for lost souls and feeding them fresh bakery, Skeppy said hey, why not set the forest on fire, so no lost man would ever need to be warmed or fed, you know? I thought it was a good idea, so a tagged along, but he ran ahead, presumably from Bad's wrath or something... Hey, what are you doing?"

Dream was panting heavily, finally caught to Sapnap. He had pushed his limits, it was stupid. It was stupid and it took all out from him. He started coughing again and felt his knees give out under the weight.

"Woah! Dude, you sound like absolute shit!" - Dream felt something warm catch his trembling hand. Then he was promptly stabilised on his feet by Nick, giving Dream a shoulder to lean on.

Despite his mind screaming to flee, the weak teen did give in into the heaviness of his limbs. 

The alarmed voice of the brown-eyed boy became muffled and finally, some seconds later, Dream floated away into nothingness. 

And there was no fire underwater.


	2. Melting frost

The snow was falling peacefully. Chonky white stars gracefully landing on already covered ground. It felt magical and somehow very special for Tommy, who has rarely seen that much snow, being born a lot more to the south from here. Unlike Techno and Wilbur, who basically grew up in the Antarctic. Well, Techno for sure. Tommy wasn't too knowledgeable about Wilbur's past.  
  
It was childish, he knew. Running around like an amused puppy (to which he was nowhere close to, fuck off, Wilbur), playing in the cold, rolling in the snow, creating snow angels and quickly reconsidering his life choices after throwing a particularly well-aimed snowball at Techno. It was really refreshing after Philza had made him stay home for days (some stupid reason, bluh-bluh, cultists and demons, yeah, right). And now Tommy would not let the opportunity to have fun slide that easily. It was his time and he would make sure his family saw that.  
  
"Wilbur, you little bitch! I bet you won't race me towards this..." Tommy's eyes scanned the forest area "...huge pile of snow! And I bet you'll lose!"  
  
Wilbur rolled his eyes: '"Make up your mind, I either don't race you or race you and lose. You can't do both."  
  
Tommy snickered, cheeks pink from the winter chill, eyes mischievous:  
  
"Ha, as expected from Wilbur Soot! He doesn't even know that he can lose by not racing me therefore admitting defeat!"  
  
Wilbur groaned in annoyance: "Dad, would you be too mad if we"accidentally"..." The teen empathized on the word "...lost a certain child in the forest?"  
  
"Yes, I would, Will" Phill chuckled into his huge striped scarf "And Tommy, no running in the woods. It's dangerous and you will waste all your energy in no time."  
  
"Let him" muttered Techno "Let him run himself dry. He'll get exhausted and then we'll just drag him by the foot, like a big nuisance he is."  
  
"What?! Big T, you were like a brother to me!" Tommy squicked, offended.  
  
"I am your brother, brat. Calm down already or you will inevitably collapse. Don't make me change my mind and agree on distracting Phill as Wilbur buries you in the snow.  
  
"Fine! I'll entertain myself then! Watch me have fun as you losers patter here awkwardly!"  
  
Tommy threw a judgy glance at his family, who were slowly making their way down the wide road, surrounded by black trees. After confirming that none of them was up to messing around, he huffed: "Can't have shit in this family..."  
  
This was utter bullshit. Being stuck inside for days! For what?!  
  
Tommy felt irritation rise, as he continued to walk (painfully) slow beside his Dad and brothers.  
  
The boy felt something crawl under his skin, urging him to move, to do anything when finally something interesting showed up.  
  
A black stain on the horizon. Something on the road before them.  
  
As Tommy was straining his eyes to make up the figure, it became clear. A crashed carriage, huh. Who could've thought?  
  
Suddenly, Tommy got hit by a thought. The carriage looked like it belonged to a trader of sorts. There were half-broken carts lying around, some yet to be buried under the snow. That meant...  
  
"Watch me, a big man by the name of Tommyinnit get the loot first and provide for my sorry family!" Tommy shouted as he bolted from his father's side.  
  
"Tommy, no!" Thorough his booming laughter, the boy heard his older brother's crunchy footsteps. Yes, finally some action!  
  
Tommy laughed again.  
  
"Catch me if you can, bitch!"  
  
As the abandoned carriage was getting closer, Tommy heard the alarm in his father's voice. His heart skipped a beat. It wasn't because of him, was it? Philza just loved to worry, didn't he? He'll show him that he is more than capable and a grown and a strong man already! What is there to go wrong?  
  
As Tommy thought that, he got through the wood of the broken transport. To the crates!  
Immediately, his eyes met another pair. Crystal blue to blood red. He met a wolf, standing just a few steps before.  
  
His body froze, unlike the animal in front of him. It bared its fangs and growled lowly.  
  
"Tommy, you gremlin child I swear to fucking god..." Wilbur swore behind him. Tommy didn't reply, still silent from the way the wolf took a stand, ready to leap at Tommy's throat, at his face, burry it's razor-sharp teeth in Tommy's soft stomach...  
  
The movement. The scream.  
  
"TOMMY!"  
  
He felt warmth envelop him, then an impact of the ground hitting his back.  
  
He was laying on the show, familiar weight upon him. Something was tickling his face. It smelled like Wilbur's ratty jacket.  
  
"...W-Will?" The kid whispered.  
  
His older brother didn't let go, still pinning Tommy to the ground, shielding his body with lanky limbs.  
  
"Wilbur?!" Tommy pushed through the fur of Wilbur's jacket to get a glance behind the older man's back.  
  
He prayed to God there'd be no blood. Please, please, let him be okay.  
  
He saw red. But before traitorous tears could get way, he caught the sight of blood's owner.  
  
An animalistic figure, pierced through, hanging limply on his father's sword. The red fury in Phil's eyes could match his now blood-soaked scarf. However, the wolf's head was missing from the body, clutched tightly in Techno's hand, while the other arm was occupied with a red blade.  
  
It was the animal, who got hurt, not his brother. Wilbur was alright, safe and sound.  
  
"Wilbur, I'm alright, it's safe, you can let go." Tommy half-whispered into the winter air. Almost immediately he felt the cage of rigid limbs loosen up a little.  
  
Then quiet, a muffled sound reached his ears:  
  
"What the fuck were you thinking..."  
  
He gulped the shame down.  
  
"Yes, I know, I know. I'm sorry." The warmth was quickly gone, replaced with the winter chill. Tommy could see Wilbur's still worried eyes scanning him. Luckily, both of them were alright.  
  
"Tommy, Will?" Philza's worried voice broke them out of the stupor. Wilbur answered:  
  
"The idiot is fine. I am too I think."  
  
From behind Wilbur's shoulder, Technoblade's eyes met Tommy's lost gaze with surprising worry and warmth. Tommy thought that this just might be the most emotion the man's ever shown. It was upsetting that Tommy's weakness was what had triggered it.  
  
Tommy's cast his gaze towards the ground, burning tears threatening to spill, as he was taken by the hand by one of his older brothers.  
"Tommy!" As Philza enveloped the youngest in a bone-crashing hug, Tommy broke down. Fat tears streamed down his face, arms desperately clutching at his father's warm coat.  
  
"D-dad, I'm s-sorr-ry." The boy choked out through the tears.  
  
"Shh... Sh... It's alright, it's alright. You are safe and this is all that matters."  
  
"All that matters, sure. Tommy, you are so grounded when we get home." Tommy felt a hand on his tighten "Don't you dare scare me like that again. Or next time I will truly burry you in snow." Wilbur chuckled unsteadily.  
  
"Sh! Something is here still." Tommy has opened his heavy eyes, eyelids puffy from crying, to see Technoblade still wary and alarmed, pig ears moving sharply, almost like detecting some sort of noise or something.  
  
"Tech? What's wrong?" Their father asked, concerned.  
  
"I think I hear crying" Techno mumbled, eyes still scanning the surroundings.  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about." Wilbur coughed loudly, turning away from his family members almost too clumsily.  
  
"No. Shut up for a second. There is someone else in here."

Tommy strained his ears as hard as he could, worried that the danger is yet to past.   
  
He felt instant relief flood him when all he heard was some muffled sobs. But where…  
  
Wilbur was up on his feet, his back turned to the youngest. Tommy knew, that when Technoblade said something with this sort of seriousness, every family member believed him instantly, their attitude switching in seconds. But really, this sounded more sad, than dangerous. Barely noticeable sounds weren’t wolves for sure. This was definitely a human.   
  
Tommy knew what he had to do when he heard someone in distress. There was a lone crate a bit farther from others. The one, near which the bloody animal was circling. Tommy could still make out the paw-shaped prints.  
  
"Wait, trust me with this!"   
  
Tommy jumped to his feet and by the accompaniment of Wilburs defeated moans and Philza’s threats of grounding him again, he quickly got to the certain crate, partly hidden under thick snow, which was still floating peacefully in the air.

Surprisingly, the boy found the lid loose, sliding off the crate with ease. He peeked inside.  
  
A pair of blue eyes met his.  
  
There was someone in a box. Tommy blinked, uncertain.  
  
After a moment of silence, the box dweller hiccupped softly. Tommy could see the tear tracks on the light skin. He knew this was no danger, no.

This person needed help.

"Hello, I’m Tommy! A big and strong man, capable of protecting literally everyone! And what’s your name?"

The bleary eyes blinked at him and a shaky voice spoke:  
  
"Toby…"


End file.
